Final stage of Grinch-ism

I hate Christmas.
Or at least I used to.
Or maybe I not so much hated it as held a grudge against it.
It doesn’t matter really what you call it, suffice to say that the first wonderful whiffs of winter in the air always associated in my mind with the impending doom of omnipresent carols playing everywhere over and over again until you want to scream, fake Santas reeking of alcohol at every corner ho-ho-ing unconvincingly at children who aren’t even really interested cause they believe in the X-Box now, the general mostly failed effort to be merry and bright, pushing through swarms of people, hugging protectively your handbag to your chest while trying to find a decent Xmas gift for everyone on a limited budget and repressing tears as your feet are being stepped on, your ribs get elbowed and your bottom is being groped by perverts thriving in such crowds, and feeling generally insecure, lonely and generally blah. Which inevitably made me go into instant hibernation mode and dread the moment when the first Xmas offers would start jumping out at me from all sides and first Xmas decorations would start appearing around town in all their sparkly, shiny, nauseatingly merry glory.
I spotted first of those a few weeks ago and they made me cringe as usual.
But.
Yesterday, as we were driving through town, I spotted a particularly in-your-face Xmas advert and… it made me smile.
And this morning, as I was blessed with an extra day off and had nothing better to do, I started on my Xmas shopping while trying to remember where I hid those reindeer antlers I got at the Xmas do last year and wondering if I could get Xmas decorations anywhere yet.
Dear God.
I seem to have reached the final stage of Grinch-ism, the happy ending of the tale (which I used to claim spoilt the whole thing). And I must say that I find it slightly disturbing. Cause that means that this year at least my green fur is staying in the closet and it is a very cosy green fur, even if it is rather ugly...